


All in All

by Darkest_Day



Series: From Stars [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Poor Cayde, Pre-Destiny 1, Robot Sex, Self-Sacrifice, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, The Vanguard Dare, The Void, vague timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12698901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkest_Day/pseuds/Darkest_Day
Summary: Andal's tangled with Taniks the Scarred once before but not everyone gets to come back from that kind of power. He never really thought he was invincible anyway. The void between the stars is calling to him when Cayde-6 comes back in the process of another reboot, at that point the decision isn't really much of a choice anymore.But it'll be okay, once he's gone the whispers will stop.





	All in All

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to 'From here, the stars' and 'Star of Dawn'. This can be read on its own.

Ikora sat in front of him, she was dressed down for the occasion. Her robes were off and folded neatly on the bed, her boots were neatly by the door, her gloves were on the desk. His cloak was slung over the chair and his boots and his gloves were in a heap by the door. Her legs were crossed and she sat with her hands on her knees. “Close your eyes.” She instructed, and he did. After a minute everything got a little warmer when the room had been so cold before. “Open them.” She said. He did.

She looked serene with her bare arms lit amber by the low light of flame. She opened her eyes as well, the flames all around them were little specks of hovering fire, it was no candle and it was no wick, it was simply Light. He'd known Ikora could do this, he'd seen her use it casually but he'd never seen an actual display before. The little balls of solar Light slowly rotated around them, and he admired them quietly. “Impressive.” He commented.

“If you're patient, this level of control is well within your reach.” He nodded, and got to work on listening.

The flames still hovered around them, it was amazing she could concentrate well enough to keep them lit and rotating while doing other things. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own, like it wasn't a manipulation but a simple release of it.

The flames went out, “hold out your hands.” She said, he held his out and she turned his palms upwards then she fit her hands under his. Slowly, the fire began to heat his skin. A little ball of it lit up in his palm and he admired it for a moment. “Concentrate on it, think about how it feels. You know how to use it for combat where you grab the full force of it, this is all about the lightest touch. When I remove my hands, try to concentrate on keeping it alive without giving it too much.”

He thought about the way the fire felt in his hands, the little beat of it and the way the heat was hot but didn't hurt. When she removed her hands the ability to feel it disappeared and his hand went cold. He swore.

“Try again, Andal.” She instructed, she put her hands under his again and started the Light.

It went out another seven times before something clicked and he was able to keep the flame in his palms for a few seconds before it flared up the slightest bit before vanishing. “Over thinking it won't get you anywhere.” She scolded. “Just concentrate on what it feels like when my hands are there, don't take too much, just a touch. You fear the loss of control so you don't give it enough power. Like the void, you cannot fear the Light or your control of it.” He listened, intently, watching the little flames that flickered in his palms and her hands under his.

“I know your understanding of the elements is extensive and your connection to it is stronger than most. You can infuse your Light into bullets in any rifle you get your hands on, you're more powerful when the sun is high. Your control of the storm rivals, if not bests, any Warlock that I have ever met; and there's never been a Nightstalker who has pulled from the void as deeply or as potently as you have. You have no fear of the Light, so do not fear using outside of combat. Do not fear that you will take too much. If you do, we both know you are too strong to let it get out of hand.”

Ikora was patient. It was a fear of bringing too much of it into his hands that held him back, he didn't know just a gentle push. He went hard, he always had. When he'd first come back with Light in his veins he hadn't been content with just what he had, he fought to learn more. Not just use it, but learn where it came from like a Warlock; and like a Titan Andal was a protector as soon as he got a weapon in his hands. He knew that each class had their own strengths and weaknesses, sometimes his bow acted like more of a shield and sometimes his arc blades was more like the rushing storm. His strength came from the years he dedicated to learning why he could use his Light and not just how.

She met his gaze, it cooled the heat of shame that swam in his belly from being afraid of the Light. He had trespassed the void and he had walked within it and there had never been any sense of fear. He had gazed into the abyss between stars and reached into it. Andal had no reason to fear anything. When Ikora removed her hands, the flame remained steady. “Hold it.” She instructed, then held out both her arms and let arc crackle from her shoulders to her fingertips, letting the electricity fold around her shoulders like wings. “Arc is wild and untamed, when you give solar the energy it spreads and burns. When you let arc loose, it spreads wherever it wants to go. Controlling it,” she brought her palms together, sparking lines of it formed between her fingertips as she drew her hands apart in one slow motion, “is all about points of contact. Bring it from one area to another, concentrate on where it will start and where it will end and the Light will do the rest.”

Then the room became lit by a deep purple as she let the void come to her. It swirled around her wrists delicately, like a snake in the water roaming up her arms. The void circled around her throat, down her chest, then pooled all around them in a mist of energy and Light. He was in awe, the little flames in his hands sparking. “I do not need to warn you about the void. It's one thing to call to it to aid you in combat, it's another to use it as if it's a friend. It took me years before I could take just a sip of the void as a plaything.”

It took him a few months to learn how much Light he needed to pull to create a steady flame, he had no consistency. Ikora may have been patient but she did not repeat herself. If she said it once and he wasn't listening he could only blame himself. But he respected the other classes, he understood that he did not need to just be a Hunter in order to be a good Hunter. Not many could manipulate the Light like Warlocks could, even fewer could toy with the Light the way Ikora could. He was convinced she was the best there was. Hunters did not care for the talent, their interests lay in their games and their knives. Not that he had anything wrong with a good knife game, but he had been interested in what Warlocks did with it for a long time now. Titans, if it were possible, cared even less for the skill than Hunters did.

He stood outside, in the Courtyard. It was late and not many others were around, Guardians didn't come around here so late. He liked the dark, he liked the night. He walked in the moonlight and let the cool air wash over him. He rolled a little bit of his mix of herbs and tobacco in a slip of thin paper and held his hand away from himself. Slowly, concentrating on pulling the Light out of him, he brought a bit of flame to his palm. It went out before he could light the end of the paper, by the third time he was able to keep it strong enough to light the end. He took in a breath and grinned approvingly at his hand. He knew he could never control it the way Ikora did, but he was happy with what he could do in such a short time. He performed better when she was watching him, knowing her eyes were on him and that she was judging his tactics was more than enough motivation to make damn sure he could do it right. But the movements were slow and calculated, when he was alone he called it freely, he tried to make his use of it feel natural so one day he wouldn't have to think about it to use it.

The next morning, he was speaking to the Gunsmith when a Hunter dressed in the worst looking neon pink gear and covered in some kind of thick sludge stalked up to him like he owned the place. He was an Exo, a horn on his forehead, glowing blue eyes and orange in his mouth all splattered with mud. That alone wouldn't have been too bad, save for the poor Sweeperbots that would have to clean up the footprints later, but he could _smell_ it when the Hunter came over to him.

Being a part of the Vanguard commanded a certain amount of respect. Even the hunters who thought him a traitor to his kind had decency when they approached him. They had a bit of respect, even if they didn't like him or what he did, they still did show that little bit. He was almost impressed that this stranger had the audacity to walk up to him like this – especially when he smelled like he had been rolling in shit. It was the worst thing he'd ever smelled in his life, but this hunter had his head held high and looked positively unashamed with himself – if not proud – as he strode towards him. So he shook his hand and pulled his lips into a tight smile. Even the bitterest of hunters didn't have this much gall.

“And who are you?” He asked, smearing the foul mud on his glove.

“Just another Hunter.” The Exo said, he'd seen enough Exo's around here to know the man was grinning at him. He wondered how he would handle himself with a gun, he wondered how tough he would be one on one. He stood with his back straight as a challenge, and he knew this stranger picked up on it. He tossed his soaked cloak over his shoulder and gave his hand a tight squeeze, so Andal squeezed harder. He'd break a knuckle if he kept up this game, he couldn't match up to an Exo's grip.

“What's your name?” Andal pressed, adding a little more pressure, the stranger responded with a slightly tighter grip. He wasn't going to be able to take much more, the challenge was won or lost when one of them withdrew.

“Me? Ah, mine's nothing compared to yours. You're Andal Brask, hunter Vanguard, Expert Marksman – Gold of course, first Guardian to complete the Gauntlet, rumoured to be the first Nightstalker, stories tell how you even levelled a battlefield of Hive and Fallen with a single tether.” The Exo was looking at him as innocently as an Exo could. He pulled his lips back in a smirk. He was winning this game, and he knew just how to claim his victory.

“I see you can look me up,” he quite nearly purred. “But none of your search engines are going to really tell you who I am.” He concentrated the solar Light between two places, middle finger and his palm, as if he were using the arc energy. Just like Ikora told him, even though he hadn't even begun to use arc yet. He had no fear; every little push of Light was confident and sure. So when the Light swirled into a little ball of flame inside the Exo's hand the Hunter yelped and danced backwards, holding his palm. Andal flicked his hood off his head hooked his thumb into his belt, he was feeling a little bit warm from all that. Clean hand, of course, the one smeared with grime was at his side. The Exo watched him, almost in amazement.

“Looks like I underestimated you.” He remarked, inspecting the burn in his palm.

The audacity! Oh, he liked this one already. Even knowing who he was, he'd still assumed he'd be less than that. He was cocky and brazen and bold with just a hint of snark. And oh, how he invaded every thought and every dream and every waking moment from then on. The Exo left, waving his hand off his forehead and stalking away. His heart beat hard in his ears and he found himself at least glad that he only felt flustered after he left. The Gunsmith looked at him, Andal flashed him a bright smile. “Nothing to worry about, my friend.” He said smoothly. The Gunsmith just peered at him in the vaguely confused way he always did.

It took another week for the mysterious Hunter to return again, and when he did he wore a fresh set of gear and a new cloak. “Look at you,” he admired, taking the time to step away from his work to eye up the stranger. “You actually look somewhat presentable.”

“Ah I shine up real nice.” The stranger said cheerfully, he barely stopped to say it and Andal hated the thoughts that ran through his head. This was rather unbecoming of him. The exchange was far too brief and the Hunter was already leaving. On the way out to the other side of the Tower he shouted “I could go roll in some mud for ya, if you'd like!” He left him to wander, resisting the urge to do something more and went back to his work with a swift apology to the people he had brushed off.

He was humble, he knew where he excelled and he knew his downfalls, he didn't expect or demand any kind of admiration just because of who he was. In all his time at the Tower, he had never been treated with anything other than respect – even if it was forced. So when this Hunter walked in with a blatant attitude twinged with disrespect he became interested. Andal knew who he was and how he believed he – or anyone else for that matter – should be treated; and he treated everyone else with the same level of respect, regardless if he knew their name or not. This interest in the Exo was quickly turning into an obsession, he wanted to see what sounds he could pull from him. Would they be human-like moans? Or would they be closer to static? He'd met the Exo twice, he had no reason to be so drawn to him like this. He supposed it had been awhile, though, his last relationship ended when his position in the Vanguard started. A handful of flings since then he had squashed before they went further than a one-off. He was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. But being single was almost part of the job, the other Vanguard didn't seem to take partners either. As far as he knew, the only partners the other two Vanguard took were each other. They had tried to be sneaky about it, but he was a hunter. Not much went by unnoticed. As much as he liked the two of them, he didn't think Zavala had any interest in men and he wasn't exactly interested in women. As beautiful as Ikora was, she was far too much woman for him.

Which was why it seemed so strange to him that his interest in a random Hunter had turned so quickly into an attraction. He was always so calculated when it came to choosing a partner, he always had to make sure they were just as committed as he was. Maybe it was just him having high standards, maybe it was him making sure he wasn't going to be with anyone who wasn't going to be right for him.

He lay in his bed, his feet propped up on a chair that he'd dragged over to the mattress. His Ghost hovered over to him, staring intently as if waiting for permission to speak. He looked at her with a slight smile. “Talk to me.” He offered. She clicked uncertainly.

“ _This is unusual for you._ ” She said, her voice was so soft and quiet, mostly feminine sounding but a little bit masculine at times.

“What is?” He knew the answer before he asked, but he asked anyway. She didn't offer a lot of opinions, so when she did; he listened.

“ _This obsession of yours. You've gone particularly quiet lately, ever since that Exo came around. And you used a power you still haven't mastered on him, what if it had gone badly?_ ” She paused, as if worried she'd said too much. “ _Normally you're more reserved, you don't take risks._ ”

Andal shrugged. “I don't take risks I'm not sure I'll win.” He held out his hand and let his Light flick flames up his fingers. He was getting better at using it in a casual way without putting his mind through the paces of getting it to work. He yearned to play with void Light, but he knew the power of the void. His bow was powerful, it was a refined talent he had walked dangerous paths to get to. When he looked at Ikora, really looked into her, he could see that she had walked that same path. He admired the strength it took to come back from all that, it was no easy task and he wasn't so sure if he would be able to come back the way she had. He stared into the void and it stared back. He knew no fear of it, but he also knew that it was a dangerous idea to play with the void the way he did the other fundamental elements before he was ready. Next time he trained with Ikora, he would ask her to show her control of it. He licked his dry lips, scratched a spot on his chin, looked at his Ghost intently. “You don't think I should?”

" _At this point, I don't think it matters what I say. I think you're going to chase him anyway._ ”

He smirked, she was usually right. “I didn't think I had a choice either.” He said, he was rolling another slip of paper and putting it to his lips. “Every time I see him, all I can think of is how badly I'd like to pin him up against the nearest wall.”

She gave him a look, “ _I really don't need to know that._ ”

It took a month for the hunter to come back again. This time no one else was around but them in the corridor on the way to the Speaker and his brain promptly shut down. He grabbed the Exo by the throat and pinned him up against the wall, pushing him right into the dark corner. “What's your name?” He purred, the Hunter did not struggle, but he did draw his gun and press the barrel into his belly. What was already half hard went full blown ache, he didn't think he'd be that _interested_ in having a loaded gun up against him like that. The stranger took this as a threat.

“Does it matter?” He asked, there was no sign of fear in him. That challenge was back in his voice. But this wasn't supposed to be a challenge, so he aligned his hips with his and pressed. He tried to swallow the hitch in his breath but the Exo was hard too and the last of his thoughts slipped away he couldn't seem to capture any more rational thought.

“I'd like to know what to call you.” He breathed, he rolled his hips again and felt the Exo's legs buckle a little bit.

“Cayde-6.” He replied, his voice was low and husky and Andal rolled his hips. He moved his hand from his throat and let his palm press hard down the centre of his chest, dragging Light between his fingertips. With one last thrust of his hips that had Cayde sagging back against the wall with something similar to a whimper, he withdrew. The Exo caught himself before he fell to the floor, Andal left him there.

Now he had to get to work, see if he could find out who Cayde-6 was. He learned that he had attempted the Gauntlet a couple years after Andal had finished it, but he hadn't placed during any of his attempts. There were reports that he kept getting himself into trouble then out of it just as quickly. Ship arrival records indicated that he'd spent some time at the Tower, but not much. His longest period away from the Tower was two and a half years. If anyone had ever been the definition of a Hunter, it would be Cayde. He spent most of his time out there hunting down the next treasure. A trip into the lounge and a couple quick questions to the Guardians who sat there revealed that Cayde was always in and out. He didn't settle with anyone or anything. They laughed and said that he never wore the same set of gear twice. He wore something new each time they all saw him.

This didn't bode well for him. It was obvious to him that he wanted him, but it didn't seem promising that it would stick. The most likely scenario was that he'd get off with him once then be gone again and that would be it. He went out to the Courtyard at night and climbed up to the rooftop and sat there smoking and thinking. The attraction was instant and intense, but he knew he couldn't. He wasn't really that good at being with someone who wouldn't dedicate themselves to him the way he would.

The next time he saw Cayde his decision not push for this evaporated, his resolve vanished from the first look at him. His Ghost was right, he wasn't going to be able to deny this chase. He wore a new set of gear in a new colour again, no mud this time save for a splatter of it on his boots from wherever shore he came from. He walked confidently, Andal was a predator laying wait in the grass for its prey to get close enough to attack. He couldn't explain what it was about him, he knew the reasons why he stood out, but he couldn't quite pinpoint why he continued to pull him in. He imagined reaching out to him and – very quickly halted his thoughts because he was in public and it really wouldn't be decent of him to make a fool of himself.

So instead of drawing attention to himself, he waited until Cayde looked his way. When he did he gave him a small half smile, nodded his head in the direction of the open area at the back of the Tower, the one that overlooked the wilds below. He licked the centre of his lower lip, briefly, then turned back to his work. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cayde made his way to the door after some feigned casual chatter with someone. The doors were always locked, but he had no doubt that Cayde would find his way in just like he did the first time.

“Now, if you'll forgive me, I must be off,” He said smoothly. “Most of this looks good, go ahead and bring it to Zavala and I'm sure he'll say the same thing.” Then he was turning and leaving. When the exo had disappeared he gave him just as long as it had taken him to get in there the first time without using the door. He unlocked it and slipped in, sure to lock it behind him. Cayde stood in the centre at the railing admiring the view. He yearned to reach out, start with his palms on his thighs then run them up his sides, only to close around him from behind. Kiss his neck and pull him in and —

Cayde turned to face him, he'd crossed the grass and stone and stood in front of him. The hunter was leaning against the railing with his hands loosely coiled around it. “You don't want this.” He said plainly.

“You don't know what I want.” He replied. He didn't even know what he wanted.

“You don't even know me.” He said, almost weakly, he seemed to shrink under the heat of Andal's gaze. “I've got issues, y'know.”

“Most Guardians do.” He said, he was slowly closing in on him, he'd been training with Ikora and on his own for so long now he could feel the cackle of arc ripple under his hands despite only having tried it a few times on his own. The pull to the void was intense.

“I'm the anti-authority type, don't do well behind stone walls and all that.”

“You act like it would be more than once.” He said gently, they were nearly chest to chest. He was slowly putting his hands on the railing on either side of the other hunter between his sides and his hands. He was all talk, he did want this more than once.

“I couldn't have you just once.” He breathed, his low voice cut with a hum of static. He was almost blinded by the desire, he knew he couldn't stop himself. They were two entirely different classes of Hunters and there was no way this was ever going to work.

“Not the type to hang up your thirst for someone?” He hummed, they still weren't quite touching but he was leaning in close to his face, lips brushing flushed metal.

“I'm not suggesting you take the Hunter's Vow with me, but I'm not what you want. I promise you, I'm not.”

“I know.” Andal hissed, those words broke whatever was keeping them half a breath apart. Cayde's hands rushed to his chest and one of them grabbed him by the scarf, then got bolder, closing his hand over his throat and pulling him in. The noise he made was desperate and needy, he ground his hips against him and the railing and closed his mouth across the thin metal plates of his. He opened his mouth and Andal licked inside, eager, that hand on his throat making him a bit light-headed. He dragged his hands along him, the clothing he wore moved with his hand but the body under didn't. He wanted everything.

“Quickly.” Cayde whimpered as he hauled himself up to sit on the rail with Andal between his knees, “how safe is this railing?”

“How much do you trust me?” He growled, he was trying to figure out how to get a hand inside what he wore.

“Not at all.”

He grinned, “you've got me by the neck, love, if either of us has something to worry about, it's me.”

“Don't lie to me, Andal.” Cayde responded, he pushed his thumb deeper into the meat beside his windpipe. “You've been in control this whole time.” Metal lips bit bruises along his jaw, under his ear, fingers moved away just enough to bite down his neck. “I bet I could get you on your knees for me and you'd still be the one in control.”

They got each other off in the open air. And after they sat against the railing together, he pulled fire to his palm and lit the end, inhaled the smoke and spared only a glance at the other. The passion hadn't even begun to fade, he was doomed. Entirely doomed. Cayde asked what he was smoking, he told him. They were both a little messy but Cayde was sitting close to him. He couldn't remember which one of them had chosen to sit that close. He didn't think about it. Cayde watched the way he used the Light without saying anything and he got a little showy.

He was gone again after that, he tried to keep himself from being bothered by it because he knew damn well that that's what was going to happen. But two days after their moment outside he found a box on the floor outside of his room. It was a little crumpled, he picked it up carefully and held it up to his Ghost. After her scan, she said “ _flammable, but not explosive. I think it's safe._ ” She had this sneaky little tone in her voice and he eyed her suspiciously.

He brought it in and pushed fire to his fingertips to break the twine tied around it. It split easily, he peeled back the brown paper and inspected the top. Immaculate handwriting, his name signed with '-C' at the bottom. He dug his thumbnail into the tape and opened it, inside it was was a whole lot of the collection of herbs and plants he smoked. He stared at it, fondly, rolled three of them and went back outside. It wasn't his exact mix, this was earthier and deeper, maybe even a little stronger.

Once he was outside he lit it and sat on his rooftop to smoke it. He could easily be seen by anyone who went by. It didn't take long for Cayde to join him. Those hunters were right, he didn't wear the same thing every time he came back. “Ah, you got it?” He asked cheerfully.

“Indeed I did, thank you. Is that usually how you thank your flings?” He teased.

Cayde laughed, then sat back a little bit, turning his metal face to the sky. “I know who you are, Andal. You don't half-ass anything you do, everything you put yourself to you excel at. Maybe I haven't seen you in action but I've heard a lot, I've heard what they've seen you do, too. Look, I just can't compete with that. I half-ass half-assing.”

Andal watched the smoke drift from the burning end, contemplated it, then took another drag of it. “Why are you so focused on putting a label on this?” He asked, he had his knees up and dropped one. “I can tell you want me by the way you keep looking at me, why deny that?” He hated that he was saying this, he knew damn well he should be telling Cayde he's right with a firm good-bye.

The Exo heaved a sigh that didn't make his chest rise or fall, then he flipped himself over and invaded Andal's personal space. The other Hunter was broader than him, but he was a little bit taller. Most Exos had the same shape. He pulled Cayde in half on top of him and explored the metal parts of his face with his mouth. “Last time we do this.” Cayde murmured, “I'm just gonna disappoint.”

He had his hands on Cayde's hips, chest to chest, the roll of herbs had been dropped at some point and he lost track of it. He didn't care, one of Cayde's knees was between his legs and he had one of his up the inside of his thigh. He breathed slowly, trying to cool what was rushing in him so he didn't get this over with too quickly. But they were out in the open air and he should really move them now before it got too far along. But he couldn't make himself stop long enough for them to move. He wanted to agree with his statement, but he knew damn well this wasn't going to be the last time.

It didn't take much to roll Cayde over, licking into his mouth and getting a good feel for it. It was a strange feeling, the sharp edges were rough on his tongue and kept catching his lips. He carefully dragged a hand down Cayde's chest, letting arc Light drift between them. Contact points were his fingertips and the Exo's chest and he arched into the touch with a strangled noise. He let his hand keep drifting, down to his belt, lower, Cayde grunted at the press of his palm.

Andal wasted no time. He opened his belt and got his hand on him and sank down to his hips. Cayde swore softly, dipping his hand under his hood to grab at his hair. Cayde's dick looked pretty similar to his own, he'd got his hands on it before but this time he could actually get a good look at it. It was made of the same colour of the dark blue that made up most of him, all these smooth flexible plates with soft black material between them. When he grabbed it the outer layer moved with his hand, it had some heat to it but not as much as the real thing. He knew well enough that it worked like anything else, so he dipped his head down and laid his tongue flat on the underside. It had no real taste, but the action had Cayde gripping his hair a little tighter.

The noises the Exo made were strangled, trying to keep himself quiet. Andal sucked the noises out of him, eager to hear them despite their somewhat public location. They weren't that visible up here, someone would have to be looking in order to see them. Unless he got Cayde screaming. Between his hand and his mouth the Hunter was quickly losing his grip on himself, he didn't seem to dare to push his head down despite the firm grip on his head. Perhaps he was right – he did have full control here.

“F-fuck, Andal,” the Hunter moaned and his heart skipped a beat at the sound. He breathed slow, worked his magic, used his free hand to draw little arcs of Light over his thigh. When he came, the fluid that came out was strange. Thicker than anything a human produced and strangely sweet. The process was nothing more than cosmetic, he probably would have been a bit disappointed if the feature wasn't there if he were honest.

Cayde went entirely limp and he took his time between his legs and eventually crawled up his body to nuzzle at his face like a content cat. At some point he had loosened his grip in his hair but brought his hand down to loosely cup the back of his neck. His other hand went to his belt but he grabbed him by the wrist. “This Tower is about to fill up with Guardians, the sun is rising, I think it would be best if I got mine another time.” He said with a smirk, Cayde laughed.

“Sneaky bastard.” He said.

Cayde left again and this time he stayed away for a long time. It was frustrating but he did understand why. The Exo was getting cold feet. He was a member of the Vanguard and Cayde was a rogue Hunter who didn't play by the rules. They weren't exactly the smoothest match out there and he didn't need to wonder if his absence was on purpose. He had been mad, at first, but in the end it was probably a good thing he stayed away. He had said it was the last time, he just hadn't thought he would mean it. He had hoped that Cayde's pull to him had been rivalled by his pull to the exo. It seemed that he'd been wrong, it had been Andal who had cared and wanted more.

But time was irrelevant for a Guardian in the Tower.

Almost a year passed since he'd seen Cayde, he had been hurt and angry for a little while but mostly just a little low. Zavala was putting a piece of paper in front of him. “Authorization granted.” He said, Andal took it and smiled. “The Speaker wasn't keen on approving it, you can thank Ikora for swaying him.”

“Excellent.” He said. “I'll be sure to thank her the next time I see her.”

“Be careful out there.” Zavala warned.

“Ah, you know me,” he said cheerfully as he stood, “it'll take more than a couple Fallen to kill me.”

They'd been getting reports of unusual Fallen activity, reports that intrigued him too much to send anyone else in. Fallen with no banners, acting sporadically. They moved throughout the solar system without any real path, quite unlike typical Fallen. Normally they infiltrated a place and stayed there until it was theirs, this group got in then left shortly after. It was a wandering group with some pretty sizable numbers. The strangest part of the whole thing was that it was seemingly run by an abnormally large Captain with some extraordinary strength surrounded by a hoard of lowly Dregs.

He didn't have explicit orders not to engage but he wouldn't say no to letting his gun do the talking for him if he needed it. The piece of paper with his orders didn't make any indication one way or another. Just to gather intel, find what they were doing. He may play by the rules but without an express direction not to engage, he was free to bend that just a little bit. This was going to be enjoyable.

“I presume you'll be staying out a little longer after that?” Zavala asked.

“You know me too well, Commander.” He replied, setting aside his work. “It's been a few years since I've left the City, wouldn't mind dusting off the old guns a bit.”

“As you do.” He said. Titans didn't understand the pull of the wilds, they were content being within these walls. Warlocks understood it, but only because their pull was to knowledge and research. They understood why Hunters yearned even if they thought it was a bit silly. But Hunters hunt, who was Zavala to deny what lay deep in his core?

A quick trip to his room collected his weapons and a couple more supplies, carefully tucked into his bag. He changed his cloak and left his usual one hanging over the back of a chair. His room was always just the right amount of clutter, so was his workstation. Both of the others kept everything neat and orderly, Andal didn't see a point in organizing something he was just going to be rifling through again soon. He got out to the hangar, the massive rifle that was taller than him clamped to his back. It was an impressive machine, his own design. Holliday eyed it as he walked towards her. “You goin' out today?” She asked.

“Scouting mission.” He said. “Then a few hours to myself, I think.”

“You're clear to go, Hunter.” She said, he gave her a low nod and continued on his way. He always did like her, small and kind with a flash of fire and toughness that rivalled any brutish Guardian he'd ever met. He soared off into the sky and set his destination for the Sea of Cold on the moon. The Ketch, Kaliks-Syn, had been spotted near there. That area was pretty barren, a lot of it had been lost into sinkholes sometime during or after the Collapse. He had never really investigated what used to be here or even really cared. Never much liked thinking about all the lives that had been lost out here, never liked thinking about all those people so desperate to get out to try to survive it and how they had failed.

He left his ship with his sniper in his hands, not on his back. It was too cumbersome to carry it like that, it was fine in the Tower but out here it made him too easy to spot out here, it threw off his balance, the end would catch on stones or rock when he walked and it reduced his mobility. Besides, this was the kind of thing he used when he wanted information. He didn't fire it often, he knew that skulking the shadows was more valuable than a single bullet. His cloak was long and wide and light and airy, it caught easily on the wind and was silvery in colour so when he got low to the ground he blended in with the dust. The ruffling in a breeze mimicked the way the sand rolled when the winds were harsh. Unlike Cayde, Andal dressed to the terrain. He'd never be caught dead in bright pink, no matter what bet he lost. He'd never wager on something that foolish anyway, his bets had higher stakes, he dealt in big numbers. Maybe it was his intensity that was too much for Cayde to handle. He couldn't help the fond twist in his lips at the thought of the Hunter, even after a year he still hadn't been able to shake him out of his head.

“ _Fallen activity ahead._ ” His Ghost said gently, she floated alongside him, attentive to what was around them. He was coming up to a couple old structures. Rusted down and sinking into the ground, lost to decay. The moon was all hills and valleys and craters off to the side of him. “ _That way, scans indicate they should be just up there._ ”

When he got closer he walked low to the ground, shielded by his cloak and cresting the final hill to the scene below. He laid his gun at the top, there was little protection up here but his gun was pale and blended into the sand. He got down onto his belly and peered down the sights, adjusting the knob to focus in on them. He pulled the helmet from his head and settled in.

Below the dregs were crawling listlessly, waiting for something. He connected to the Tower, “no sign of any banners.” He confirmed in a low murmur. “Colour scheme doesn't match any known house.” He shifted his angle, “there's another Captain here, they've got him all tied up.”

“ _Any affiliation?_ ” Zavala asked.

“That Captain's from, hmm.” He dialed in closer, “Devils.”

“ _Devils? We haven't had reports of the House of Devils on the moon. Are there any others?_ ”

“No. I think they must have brought him here.” But why? He went quiet as the scene changed, the larger Captain in question emerged. One flesh arm and three mechanical ones, big furry collar and a bright orange cloak. “There he is.” He breathed. The Captain tore one of the limbs off the other without any warning, waved the removed arm in the air as it leaked ether from torn flesh. The other Fallen around him growled and cheered their approval. He then went back for the other Fallen's skull, putting a large clawed hand over his head and crumpling the helmet like paper. He tore his head off in one movement, the body sagged against what bound it there and the head was thrown to the side as if he was bored of it already.

“What a brute,” he commented casually. “What's his name?”

“ _We are too far away to hear much more than static._ ” His Ghost said.

He slid backwards down the hill a little bit more, grabbed a rolled bit of herb and lit it. “Think I can get in there?” He asked. “This doesn't look like their home base, but some of the dirt has been cleared out, I'd say that they spend some of their time here.”

“ _It's crawling with Fallen_ ” she deadpanned, “ _you shouldn't have much of an issue._ ”

And he didn't. He put his helmet back on and got two recording devices ready and slunk in. Rounding the far side of the hill and getting into the building. And oh, he was good. Ikora's teachings seemed to have a bit of tactical use as well alongside the personal flair and showboating. It was a bit messy but he was able to cackle a bit of arc Light that distracted the Dregs and got them to go investigate it. Long enough for him to get in, plant the device under a metal table that had been thrashed then melted into a wall and retreated once more. He'd been training the Warlock's skills with Light for a year, he thought he was pretty good at it now.

He had another device, he wanted to get closer to the big guy and start listening in a little bit more. So he ducked around the outside of the building, over to where the big guy hung out. While other Fallen Houses may have still had a little bit of nobility in some ways, this one had none. He commanded an army of Dregs and brutally murdered his own kind for seemingly no reason. He heard their voices, his Ghost attentive and listening in, broadcasting the words back to the Tower. Guttural noises they made, growling and conversing. The big one stayed quiet.

He sunk down a little hallway, the others were just around the corner. He placed the device low against the wall and retreated. This one could be seen easier, it wasn't concealed, but he didn't think he'd be around here too much longer. If they saw it, it was no real loss. He got out of there and back up to the vantage point as his Ghost worked on turning the machines on. A brief whine and a surge of static the voices came through cleanly. “Getting that, Zavala?”

“ _Indeed we are._ ”

“Good.” He settled back in, waiting. The big guy wasn't in sight anymore but they had his voice.

“ _They're talking about the next job._ ” His Ghost said, her shell clicking curiously.

“A hired gun, then.” He mused. “Definitely unusual for the Fallen. How's that translation coming?”

“ _A lot of code words, in time we will have the full transcript._ ”

“Adding more words to our dictionary. The Fallen are good for something. Seems that Captain killed was a job, but he looked rather bored about the whole thing. Maybe he likes a challenge, maybe he finds it fun.”

“ _Perhaps. Stay safe._ ”

“Aye.”

He focused down again, watching, listening. He knew very little of the Fallen language, never really could care much about it. The Hive, though, the Hive were interesting. The Fallen were just, well, sad. From what they knew about them they hadn't really had the best time either. The Traveler had left them and it had destroyed them. He never liked looking at those sad stories much, never liked killing them much either. He always tried to find a bit of humanity in them, and there was plenty to be found even if it was hidden under layers of brutality and loss.

“ _We have a name._ ” His Ghost said.

“Good work.”

“ _Taniks, the Scarred._ ”

The Fallen were moving on no more than an hour later and once they were clear and scans said they were gone he was heading back down there to collect the second listening device. He would leave one there, but the other was in too obvious a location. He'd have to move it or take it back so they could continue to gather intel without them knowing. But he'd happily figured out what they were doing, he would let Ikora work her magic and find out what else they were all about. He walked carefully, but without too much stealth. He was always on guard but he let it drop a little.

When he rounded the corner to the hallway he'd left the second one in he was met by a blast that sent him flying into the wall behind him. Dazed, he opened his eyes and spotted Taniks himself coming round and bearing down on him. “Ah, cloaking.” He said cheerfully, he pulled the rifle from his belt, his sniper still in the sand above. “Knew I was here, did you?” Though he knew he wouldn't understand the reply, he didn't know how well the Captain would understand him.

Taniks responded with a growl, his Ghost told him that he was calling him a fool.

“Of course.” He threw a ball of void Light from his palm and rolled for cover as the Fallen shot another blast from his cannon that battered the wall he'd been up against.

“ _Andal! Get out of ther—_ “ the connection destabilized and he heard only static. A Servitor, or just jammed comms. This wasn't this Fallen's first time dealing with Guardians. He wondered how many innocent lives that cannon had taken. He grit his teeth, letting that bitterness fill him. He rolled through the dust and took aim, reaching into the deep of the void. The arrow floored Taniks, he was growling and shouting and trying to fight it. Andal breathed and walked over to him, the creature couldn't move, trying to fight the gravity of his tether.

He had a shotgun and held that out. Didn't use them often, he liked sitting back and picking them off one by one but a couple bullets to the head should end this threat. As he took aim the Fallen reached out and grabbed him by the ankle, throwing him like a rag doll into the wall that made up the corner he'd been ambushed in. The force of the hit cracked the helmet across his face and smoke filled his lungs, something in his back broke, ribs shattered, ankle splintering where Taniks held on. His Ghost rushed to heal him and the fleshy hand Taniks still had grabbed her from the air. The Fallen was on his front, grabbing him with one metal hand trying to pull him in for the kill. Claws tried to curl around his Ghost and he heard something cracking in her and tasted fear.

Time slowed down, his tongue felt thick in his mouth and all he could taste was blood. He watched that hand close around her a little more, fighting with the void encasing him to crush her between his claws. He'd been careless, Taniks wasn't supposed to move from his tether at all. Normally it was enough to keep them still long enough for him to make the kill. So he stepped into it, he let his connection to the vacuum between galaxies and stars wash over him. His head burned with pain, his blood seeped into his mouth thicker than before, the edges of his vision went black. He put his hands deep into it and called it to him, the vast expanse of the emptiness of space was his to command, it was his to take. His vision faded to black but he didn't need to see. He had never felt this much power before, he had never been in this far. The rushing in his ears faded into nothingness, he could no longer feel the splintered bones in his ankle, the blood seeping down his chin, or the air in his lungs.

He stopped breathing. His heart stopped beating.

This was the moment of reckoning. Face to face with the heart of the void itself, the deepest dark of it. The suffocating black poison of it.

Be brave.

He released the arrow and the world came rushing back to him. The arrow pierced through the flesh and bone shoulder and deep into the moon and pulled the Fallen down with it. His breath came fast, he'd never felt that, he'd never seen that, he grabbed his Ghost and began to run. The arrow had dragged deep down into the dirt, pulling sand and dust and eventually the entire structure down with it. It was a sinkhole that pulled Dregs and the other Captain's body down too. He was taking bullets like rain and held his Ghost protectively against his chest. “They kill me.” He hissed to her, blinded by the escape, “you get the hell out of here. Get backup. You can come back for me later.”

With blood in his teeth he fought his way out, fighting the rushing sands. When he escaped back to the top of the hill he stumbled to his gun. He tore the helmet from his head and sat there, and gasping for breath.

“ _Andal! Andal?_ ”

It was Ikora. He lit a roll without thinking about it and breathed it in and the next thing he knew he was on his second one, maybe his third. He couldn't remember.

“— _dal! We were getting readings of massive amounts of void Light. What happened down there? Andal!_ "

"Hello my dear," he said kindly, he didn't actually know how many times she had repeated the same things; desperate to get his attention. He didn't call Ikora pet names that often, only when he was drunk and feeling extra affectionate towards his Warlock friend. Maybe he was a little drunk on power. Ikora was talking again and he had no idea how long he had been quiet for. "That was me." The smoke tasted sweeter than usual and there were specks of blood on the paper.

" _Thank fuck you answered._ " She said, he just chuckled. He looked at his Ghost, still clutched protectively in one hand. He loosened his grip, there was a long crack in one of the pieces of her shell, but she peered up at him. She was fine, she was alive, he'd been able to save her.

" _Andal, those energy readings were—_ "

"A friend told me once," he interrupted. His head wasn't on straight, he thought, or rather he just wasn't thinking anymore. "That he heard a rumour that my bow had levelled a battlefield. I thought that was ridiculous, no one could do that." He sucked in a breath as he laughed, looking down at the sinkhole and the half-ruined building that he had created. "Looks like I can."

" _You need to get back here._ "

"No, I need to come down. I will be there soon." His head ached in a way he'd never felt before that no Ghost could fix and he kept blinking in and out of time. The void was calling for him again, whispering to him and trying to drag him in. It surged through his veins like fire and ice and winds. "I'll find you later, love, I'll need you by then." Then he turned off the comms, looked at his Ghost.

" _Thank you._ "

"Don't thank me," he said kindly, she remained in his hand, he ran his fingertip over the crack in her shell delicately. "You're my Ghost, I'm nothing without you."

" _We need to get out of here. Taniks is still alive._ "

"That didn't kill him? Is he a Kell?"

His blood was infused with the void and he yearned to use it. He wanted to work it out of his system, pull from it and let it burn through him but he knew better than that. When he first learned how to use the Dusk Bow, he had trained with a Warlock. A Warlock who was willing to teach a fresh Hunter like him. He'd been told about the dangers, the pull, the grip of it once it was there and how easily he could get lost in it. He knew that if he had given in and accepted that black blankness back there as truth, if he had even felt a twinge of fear, that feeling of absolutely nothing would have become all he ever knew. He'd have died in the grips of his own head.

So he went through the careful processes of loosening the void's grip on him. Gathered his things and got into his ship and went to Io. He was a little shaky on the way over but he suspected his Ghost had overridden the controls for him. It was a sacred place, the last place the Traveler touched. He got to the soft grasses on the moon, sat down and folded his legs under him and closed his eyes. Hours later, the void had begun to loosen his grip on him. It took even longer to push it back again, and even longer still for the void to let go of him completely. When he came to, a familiar Exo was laying in the grass in front of him. "Cayde-6" he said softly, he couldn't help the affection in his voice.

The Exo lit up one eye and peered at him. "There you are." He said, sitting up.

"How long have you been here?" He asked, he couldn't feel his legs so he didn't try to get up yet.

"About two days. Two earth days, I mean. I've been here about a day." He seemed uncertain. "Talked to the Vanguard for you. Zavala gave me hell until Ikora got on the line. She seemed to get it, she started talking about Io but I'll admit I stopped listening after the first few words. Warlocks are always so talky."

Andal sighed with a small smile, "why have you been sitting here for a full day?" He asked, peering at him. A year, he reminded himself, a year Cayde had been away.

"Other than the fact that Zavala threatened to dismantle me into Sweeperbot if I left you alone, I.. I guess I was worried about you. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Andal huffed, unfolded his legs and tried to stand but he crumpled instead. He collapsed back down but Cayde was there catching him before he fell and lowered him back down to the ground. Andal just sagged against him, letting the dry weakness in him be his excuse for getting close again. He told himself he was using it as an excuse rather than admitting he truly couldn't keep himself up. Cayde had an arm around his back with his other on his arm, Andal had his head near his neck. He closed his eyes, pushing the void out of him had left him with nothing, he almost felt Lightless. He felt the press of Cayde's metal mouth on his forehead, hated him and loved him in that moment. The action was so brief, as if Cayde had done it without even thinking.

"You were gone for a year, Cayde." He murmured. "If not having anything to do with me was your goal, you shouldn't have been here when I came out of it." His voice had more bitterness than he intended.

"I stayed away because I had to. You're a little scary, y'know. " Andal peered up at him, giving him a look. What on earth was he talking about? "See! Just like that. You look at me with those big green eyes of yours and I feel like you're looking straight through me. I'm pretty good at reading people but I can't read you. You look at me like that and I stop thinking, it's like my brain shuts down and you just see everything I am and it doesn't feel like it's enough."

"Enough? You think I'd care about what was 'enough'?"

"Hunter Vanguard, probably the first Nightstalker, best—"

"Shut up." He commanded, putting his hand on Cayde's shoulder and pulling himself up to kiss him. He could still talk even if his mouth was occupied, but he had thankfully stopped talking anyway. "Don't tell me you can't compare, I don't want to hear it. I'm not here to talk comparisons with you, Cayde."

"I said last time was the last time." He said.

"And yet you sat here for a day waiting for me." He whispered, he was bringing his other hand up to the back of his neck.

"I couldn't let you sit here alone, what if something happened?"

"You aren't pushing me away." His voice got lower, mouth to mouth, he could barely feel his legs still but Cayde was helping him keep up.

"I can't."

"Don't."

Cayde let him push him down into the grass, let him wander his hands over him. His movements were slow as he tried to stabilize his Light again and find strength. But Cayde wasn't in a hurry, his fingers got bold and began to worm his hands under his clothes. He undressed him lazily, slowly, in no real hurry either because he was still reeling from the aftershocks of the fight. He grabbed him by the thigh and hooked his leg over his shoulder, pinning it to his chest. Cayde was shockingly flexible, his calf was near his head. He bent in to kiss him and dragged his hand down his thigh, down to the crease between his legs, between the squishier parts of his body that made up his ass. He ran his fingers gently along that line as Cayde was making these soft little noises. His fingers caught on the metal and with only a bit of rubbing it opened up for him, when it did he sank two fingers deep into him. Cayde sighed at the intrusion, eager whimpers came from him. He was biting at his collarbone, one hand in his hair. Inside him felt hot and tight and his body was producing something slippery. When Cayde whimpered his name he withdrew his fingers and, finally, entered him.

After they had his silvery cloak draped over their hips, laying naked in the grass. He admired the cream and blue tarnished plates that made up his body. Their Ghosts drifted back over to them, his floated a little off centre, a little sideways, he held a hand out for her and she took his offer. He brought her close to him, inspecting the crack in her shell. There were a few others, small ones, but this one was the most concerning one. He would have been lost without her, whatever happened to him from now on was worth the risk he took.

"What's going on?" Cayde asked, looking at his Ghost.

"Bit of damage from the battle." He said, "think your Ghost would be able to heal her?"

"I doubt it, but let's try it." Cayde sat up slowly, Andal admired the lines of his back before sitting up as well.

It was a surprise when it worked, the long crack mended cleanly with only a slight dent left behind. "Thank you." He said to Cayde's Ghost, she looked pleased with herself and his floated normally again. "I should get back to the Tower." He sighed and pulled Cayde in again, there was no frenzied lust racing through him anymore. This time it was just this soft beat of attraction that pulled him in, all that uncontrollable urge had faded into something content.

"I'll go with you." He responded. "Is it safe for you to steer?"

Andal sighed, "unlikely. My head kills."

The two of them got dressed again, there was still a bit of weakness in his limbs but Cayde was there, directly at his side to keep him up. Cayde flew and Andal relaxed in the ship and by the time they got back he seemed to find a way to walk again without help. He was the Vanguard, he wasn't going to let anyone see him in a state of weakness. In the Hangar, off to the side, they stood chest to chest for a few long minutes. "I'd tell you to wait in my room for me, but I've probably got a lot of paperwork waiting. It could take hours to sort through it all."

"I'll wait." Cayde said, Andal watched for any hint of a lie in him and really couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips.

He put his hands on either side of Cayde's face, staring at him intently. "And I'll wait too, Cayde." He paused, considering what he was about to offer. "Always." One last kiss and he went to find the Vanguard. Zavala gathered the various papers he needed and Ikora sat him down and put her fingers on his temples, they sat quietly for a few minutes before she looked at him with concern written in her face.

"When they jammed the comms we got satellites to pinpoint your location. By the time we got that going there was a surge of void Light that made all our readings go haywire. You came back from it, this time. Next time you might not be so lucky." But there was more to it than that, he could see it in the concern. "You made the right decision, I would have told you to go there myself. Don't forget, I know what this is like. You know where to find me."

Hours later he was trudging to his room, the ache in his head hadn't left but it had faded some. He stood outside the door for a moment, fully expecting it to be empty. He'd been so careless, almost lost his Ghost and his Light and his mind. Being with Cayde felt like a risk. But when he opened the door Cayde was laying in his bed naked except for the sheet pooled around his waist, writing something in a notebook. He left a trail of his clothes from the door to the bed and got into it with him, Cayde entered him and hours later he was exhausted and the pain in his head was gone.

They woke up late, Cayde showed him his journal and told him he had some weird habits, spent all this time laying out pieces of him out in the wilds for him to find later. It seemed strange to him but he didn't question it. He respected that Cayde's quirks were what made him who he was. He said he'd found all these things about himself that he hadn't known again and again, he said he had one book that he had read, or he thought he read. He said he didn't remember, his Ghost had told him that he had read it and rebooted shortly after and added another number to his name. Later, Cayde gave him that book and he read it. The contents were disturbing, to say the least. Was that.. the Collapse? The single most devastating event that had ever hit their world? It was horrifying and it got him worried, would simply reading these words set him off? It appeared that it would. He pressed Cayde for questions, asking him how the reboots worked, how his memories worked. He happily answered all his questions.

The days passed slowly, he was fatigued. He hadn't done much to train his Light again, but eventually Ikora requested to meet him. Cayde was off betting on crucible matches with Shaxx and he met her in her room. He knew that his itch to play with the void like she did wasn't a good idea. He didn't feel fear, exactly, when he thought of it. He felt apprehension. It wouldn't be for a few years until he touched the void again, standing with Ikora out at night. A transmission had come in from Cayde saying he was on his way so they were watching for him. He absently held his hand out to her and a little swirl of void concentrated in his palm. Ikora had been impressed, at that point she thought he was getting better. He wasn't, he just learned how to manage it. He didn't think she would have any trouble understanding that if he tried to explain it, but he didn't.

The first time Cayde left after their week-long sexcapades he was worried he wasn't going to come back. He was only gone for a couple days before he came back again, beaming. Andal was thrilled he came back, and that's how things began to work. They were pretty careless, both of them overcome with passion as soon as they were together again, getting it on in wherever risky corner they happened to be closest to. It didn't take long before someone walked in on them, and unfortunately, it was the Shipwright.

He felt terrible for it, truly awful. He'd gone into the City with Cayde and found a flower in the brightest yellow he could find and gave it to her with an apology. After that Cayde took a real liking to her, he teased him a few times about his crush on her, but Cayde only wailed that Amanda was far too perfect for him and he could never taint her. When he had risen an eyebrow at him with a smirk Cayde had thrown himself at him and insisted that Andal was somehow even more perfect and had put his hand on the front of his pants and changed his entire tune and told him Andal was the one who tainted him. Whenever he was busy working, overseeing patrols or sitting in for any of Zavala's strikes, Cayde was bothering Amanda or he was off bothering another one of the Vanguard. Zavala liked to yell at Cayde and the exchange was endearing in a way. Cayde enjoyed egging him on and everyone knew Zavala needed to blow off some steam sometimes, the titan overworked himself way too much. Yelling at Cayde became Zavala's outlet and he could tell the both of them enjoyed their games.

A couple months of all of this and Cayde came up to him while he was working, he sat in a chair and Cayde draped both arms over his shoulders, nuzzling the back of his neck. "Hey, wanna look up someone for me?" He asked. Andal sat back in his chair, looking at him.

"Yeah, what's the name?"

Cayde leaned into the keyboard in front of him and took over it to type in the name. Andal just rest his head against his chest, content. "Amanda's got this boyfriend, name sounded weird to me, guess he does some supply runs for the City."

The guy seemed to have blinked into existence without much warning, while the records for those who entered the City were shaky at best and some people were missed, there was no sign of him anywhere before a year ago. "A fake name, it seems." Cayde dragged his metal lips across his cheekbone affectionately in thanks. When Cayde found out this guy was dealing in some pretty awful shit, he got a lot of satisfaction in the signing off on his exile papers. He liked Amanda and this guy just wanted to use her for her connections, she definitely deserved way better than that. A few days after that she'd found him and thanked him for his help, pleased that she had so many people looking out for her.

When he did touch the void again, after avoiding it out of concern that it would hit him full force, he was pleased to be able to manipulate just that little bit of it. A push of it, gentle, not too often but here and there just to prove he could. It gave him a false sense of safety, if he could still manipulate the void then he was getting better. He was nowhere near close to Ikora's skill but he had some now, his use of it was trained to be mostly instinctual while Ikora's was showy and strong. Still though, deep in the back of his head it still remained. It still lurked and that pull was still there. It was draining, often he looked to Ikora in the quiet of the night for guidance. There weren't many Nightstalkers out there, Hunters either had no patience to learn it, or they were too scared to try even if they wouldn't admit it.

Sometimes he woke to those whispers in his head, calling to him. Sometimes his dreams were full of dark and once he sank into that pit of absolute nothingness in his sleep and Cayde had woken him in a panic, worried when he had seemingly stopped breathing. He kissed his face kindly, told him he was fine. He never really slept a lot anyway, he just lay in bed with his eyes closed for hours to rest without actually drifting off. Now real sleep was even rarer.

He huddled into the Hangar with Cayde when he left for the last time, the breeze was cold and winter was beginning to settle in. He kissed him goodbye and watched him leave from beside Amanda. A week went by and he still hadn't returned. He began to track ship entries and began to pace near her waiting for him. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and there was no sign of Cayde. She sounded like him sometimes, she'd tell him off in such an unashamed way whenever he paced too much. For years Cayde had always returned, he always came back to him. It was unusual for him to be gone for so long and deep down in him he knew something was wrong. He stopped sleeping entirely until he collapsed into darkness, unable to stay awake any longer. This happened frequently despite notes of concern from the other Vanguard. Months slipped away from them, Amanda was kind and joined him away from the noise of the Tower frequently. The clouds were bright and happy when Cayde's Ghost came back. She came back alone. He knew as soon as he saw her that Cayde was gone. She sank into his hands and he fell to his knees, bowing his head and holding the little Ghost to his chest.

They closed the door of the Hall, Amanda looked distraught and Ikora looked solemn, Zavala looked regretful. " _We were flying over the ocean._ " The Ghost said, " _we got hit by something, I didn't get a chance to figure out what it was. We both went under, I came out pretty quickly but.. Cayde was gone. I searched the ocean for months, I searched the shoreline, maybe he'd washed up somewhere._ " The pieces of her sagged, her voice warbled as she spoke. " _Other Guardians found me, they tried to look too. But we found nothing, he's.. gone._ "

He could see the way Amanda trembled from here, she held out her hand and his Ghost drifted into it gratefully. His fondness for her spiked and he wordlessly left the room. He couldn't do this. Cayde's things had been left in his room in random piles on the floor and he hadn't had the heart to move it all this time. He sagged against the wall, whispering curses under his breath as he sank down to the floor, pressing his fingers into his eyelids to try to quell the tears but just sat there. His love, his life, his everything was gone. When he looked up, his Ghost was there. " _Ikora told me you've got a few days off._ " He thanked her quietly, grabbed his things and went outside up to that rooftop. Everywhere within this Tower had whispers of Cayde, he couldn't escape the ghost of him lurking around every corner. He sat there for hours, chain-smoking with two Ghosts when Amanda joined him.

He was grateful for her presence, she didn't push him to speak, she let him talk and after a few hours she'd somehow got him laughing again. She was the greatest part of this Tower, she was the only thing that kept him together. The darkness was pulling him under and the void was calling his name. He was quickly on the decline and he was losing the strength to keep the power of it from dragging him deeper and deeper. It was already there, it had been there since he fought Taniks, he'd been fighting it for so long and was losing the will to keep fighting.

When Cayde's Ghost flew off, months later, he and Ikora jogged out onto the wall where Amanda stood looking distressed. She only had to breathe his name, Zavala was already gone. He put an arm around her back and the other under her legs and she locked her arms around his neck, he hopped from the wall and down to the dirt below. Caught himself at the last second and landed gracefully, he set her down and took a few steps ahead. But he could see him in the distance, already returning. Zavala carried the broken body in his arms, he saw Amanda start to crumble and his heart seemed to stop for the briefest of moments. A flash of pain, he'd asked for Amanda before him. How could he have done that?

They got Cayde to his room, lay him down on the sheets and four Ghosts started the healing process. Ikora had a steady hand on his shoulder as he teetered on the edge. His jaw was clenched hard enough to make his teeth ache. The other two left, Ikora passed her hand through his hair kindly on her way out. Amanda came in and sat with him, he sat on the bed and held his hand.

When Cayde woke up, he sank into him because Cayde only saw him. And when he spoke to the Shipwright he understood why he had asked for her, above all Cayde was a good man. When Amanda left he kissed him as hard as he could, cutting his lips on metal, his breath ragged. He was here, alive, clinging to him. He'd never slept with him like this before, it had never been so desperate, he'd never had Cayde cling so hard to him before and he'd never held onto him so tightly. He sent him off into the little shower after they'd finished, he gathered up salt-crusted ragged clothes and threw them into the bin, then rummaged through his closet for something he could wear. The gear he found was similar to what he wore, not the same, it was more detailed than his own and made of better material. His was well-worn and he'd had it for years, this was newer.

Cayde told him, once they'd received the bundle of goods from Amanda and Ikora, that their names were Braig and Garalli-8, Braig was the one who had mostly helped him, the other was a grumpy Exo. They went together to the outskirts of the City to meet them and Andal was eager to meet the two people responsible for Cayde's life. When they got there Braig walked up and put his hands on Cayde's arms with a smile. “You shine up real well.” He said cheerfully. “I'm glad you pulled through, I didn't think you were going to make it.”

When the man turned to Andal, he stepped towards him and grabbed his hand with both of his, holding onto it tightly and fighting the tremble that threatened to shake him apart. “You've done me a great service.” He said, almost breathless. “He was gone for so long, none of us thought we would see him again.”

“If he hadn't made it, we'd still have brought him here.” The exo was saying, his arms were folded over his chest. “But I guess his Ghost was still around after all.”

Andal could only smile at him, an honest one because even if there had been no saving Cayde, having his body could have at least settled the frayed edges of him. “Even if his Ghost hadn't been here, that would have been welcome. Thank you.”

“We had our very best gather you a few things.” Cayde was handing over that heavy bag. “Our Shipwright got it all together, should be professional-grade Exo components and whatever else she thought you might need.”

“The Vanguard saw to it personally that you be given whatever you might need.” Andal added, pleased that the two of them were eyeing up the bag eagerly, taking a look in it before hanging it on their shoulders.

“If it wasn't for you guys, I wouldn't be here. I owe you my life. You ever need anything, I'm your man.” Cayde said gratefully.

Cayde never told him what happened, Andal wasn't sure he wanted to know. But they got back to it, back to their routine. It took Cayde a month and a half before he prepared himself to leave again, Andal was worried. He wasn't going to go so far as to forbid him from leaving, but he was worried. “I'll stay away from the ocean.” He promised, Andal didn't want to suffocate him but he didn't want him to go.

But Andal wasn't going to tell him what to do, his concern came out of love but Cayde understood. And he understood that he couldn't keep a Hunter behind walls. But when he came back from his first trip back out there he was changed. Now that he was looking, he realized that it had been there since he'd been brought back to them. The first time he misfired, he shattered the pen in his hand. He laughed, brushed it off, told him he was holding it too hard and didn't realize the strength of his own grip. Andal didn't believe him, Cayde hadn't seen the way the light in his eyes had flickered when he had done it, he hadn't heard the low static pop that came from him. When he asked his Ghost later, she told him it was a misfire but didn't know enough about them to tell him anything else. So he asked Ikora what that meant.

Ikora's shoulders sagged when he told her about it, she exhaled shakily. “It's the Exo process of a reboot.” She said softly. “It's a misfire, his brain sends too many signals at once, it causes a spasm of movement that he can't control. Andal.. I'm so sorry.”

“Is there any way to make it stop?” He asked, the dull ache in his chest burned.

“These things can take days to months. Keep me informed of what happens.”

He was tired. He had papers in his hands in the Hall and Cayde was lounging. “You know, Cayde, I've been examining the evidence and personally I've come to think it's you. You're Rasputin, legendary Warmind, defender of Earth.” He took a breath and thought he might burst into hysterical laughter or completely break down, his hands trembled. “And I wish you'd remember that.” His voice got a bit softer, Ikora was watching him, concern in her brow. “So you could reclaim your full power and save us all.”

Zavala snorted, Cayde gaped at him, looked at him strangely. “Well, Andal,” he started. “You might be on to something there, but if I'm honest with you I think coordinating our defence throughout the solar system sounds exhausting, so I'd best leave it to you.” He excused himself to smoke out in the open air and broke down and gripped the railings hard enough for his knuckles to go white and his head to start hurting again. Every time Cayde came back from his outings he was worse. He would misfire frequently, he'd shake his head and the lenses of his eyes would flicker. The longer he spent in the Tower, the less it would happen. He would stabilize, he would get better. When he told Ikora that, she gave him a sad smile. “I don't think there's anything out there that would trap him here, Andal.”

“If he stayed here, would it stop?”

She pressed her lips into a line, sighed, she was pacing slowly. “Andal..”

“Please, Ikora.”

“It would. It seems that when he's here there's less to remind him of what happened, the longer he stays here, the less access he has to something that will set off his systems. But you can't keep him here.”

Andal laughed because he knew what was going to happen. And judging by the look on her face, she did too. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. He didn't do this often, he wasn't affectionate with anyone other than his partner, but Ikora looked like she was about to cry and he couldn't bear to watch that. “It's okay, love,” he murmured, his cheek against the side of her head.

Cayde was above him, kissing him, his knees on either side of his waist. Cayde was running his bare fingers up and down the inside of his wrists, his hands were above his head and he was losing himself in the sensations of it. Delicate little touches, half undressed, willingly submitting himself to him. Cayde grabbed him by the wrists, dragging his arms down so he had his hands pinned beside his head. The misfire had Cayde's hand gripping and pulling his arm at a bad angle. The crack was sickening, Cayde's panic was intense. The pain throbbed and.. Andal kissed him kindly, told him it was okay. Promised him that it was okay, that it would be okay. His Ghost healed him, they got back to what they were doing and Andal climbed up onto the rooftop once he had fallen asleep. His Ghost hovered in front of him and he grabbed her out of the air, held her close. “ _Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?_ ” She asked him, he let out a soft breath of laughter.

“You don't have to too.” He said, “you can go. Leave me there, keep yourself safe. Find another Guardian, maybe Amanda. She's a sweet girl, she could use a Ghost.”

“ _Andal, I can't. You're my Guardian._ ” The lens in her eye dimmed, switched off briefly while she nuzzled his palm. “ _If you go, then so will I._ ”

“Is it selfish, or selfless?” He asked. “I really do think it would kill me if he looked at me and couldn't remember who I was. But if I do this..” His breathless laughter shook him, he was so tired. He was so worn down, the void still called and he couldn't keep denying it. There was no strength left in him and he wasn't even sleeping anymore. The only time his head didn't hurt was when he was with Cayde. “If I do this, he'll be saved. It's all I can do.” This had been on his mind for a long time now, this was the first time he put words to it. He wiped his face with the back of his glove, his Ghost accepted what he said, she did not fight him. "I can't keep fighting." He whispered, he bowed his head. It felt like he was drowning.

An hour later Amanda joined him, his resolve was set and when he made her cry he felt only guilt. He set her with his final task, his last order.  “Make damn sure that the next one to love him is damn well worthy. If they wouldn't lay down their life for him, they'll never be good enough. If you don't personally approve of them, they aren't good enough.” He left her there and climbed back into bed with his hunter, held him so close.

It took a few weeks to finally get to the moment he'd been waiting for. “Oh come on, Cayde. All you do all day is laze about in the sun.” He taunted.

“Hey! No fair, I have plenty to do. All you do is sign your name everywhere.”

He was glad Cayde couldn't see his face, tears were pricking at the corner of his eyes. He was on his back and Cayde had his head somewhere between his chest and arm and he held him. This was the moment he'd been steering the conversation to. This was all part of the plan. He knew Cayde couldn't say no to a challenge.

“You wouldn't last a day in my job.” He teased, letting laughter rumbling in his chest mask the thickness of his tongue. These were becoming his final moments with Cayde. His last hours alive.

“Your job is too boring for me.”

“Yours isn't even a job.”

“But it's fun.”

“I bet you couldn't do mine though.” The words ripped pain over his chest, trying to keep his voice anything but the whisper it wanted to be.

Cayde scoffed, “yeah right. Your job is so easy anyone could do it.”

Andal laughed again, closing his eyes and letting a tear drag its way down the side of his face. “Are you suggesting the Vanguard Dare?” He challenged, fighting _so hard_ to keep himself together.

“What, we switch jobs?”

“I don't think you can do my job for a day. All I have to do to do yours is lay around somewhere until I felt like coming home.”

Under the guise of tucking his free hand behind his head he wiped his skin dry. Took in a deep breath, bit back all of it. “Tomorrow,” he challenged, his voice did not betray him. “That's when it starts. We switch jobs, we see who has it easier.”

Cayde chuckled, “you've got it, old man.” He teased and then he was rolling over and climbing on top of him and Andal sank into his touch. He let Cayde pull him in and gave into him completely. His love, his life, his broken Exo that would end up worse than dead if he didn't do something. He knew how much Cayde cherished those memories he had left. They spent the rest of the day in bed together and it was only when Cayde fell into an exhausted sleep that no insomnia could keep him from, Andal cried. Wordlessly he just held him and allowed himself to grieve for everything that was going to change tomorrow. It was going to hurt him, he was trapping him here in the Tower indefinitely – but it was going to save him. It's the last thing he could do and at this point it was the only escape route he had left.

He didn't sleep that night, both from the inability to and the fact that he didn't want to. Early in the morning he climbed out of bed and Cayde woke up a little bit, peering up at him. He grabbed him by the horn and kissed him gently. “Smoking?” Cayde asked sleepily.

“Yep.” He said, kissing the tip of the horn as Cayde settled back into sleep. Amanda was always up early and when she saw him her face fell. She followed him outside and they stood together.

“Today's it, isn't it?” She asked, he only nodded. He draped an arm around her shoulders and held her firmly to his side, she put her head on his shoulder, and eventually just cried openly. He opened his arms for her completely and allowed it, resting his chin gently on the top of her head.

“Take care of him for me, okay?” He said softly.

He found Ikora next, “oh no” she breathed, looking at him helplessly. She was still in her room and partially dressed for the day. “Andal, no.” She sat in her bed and he walked over to her, putting his hands on either side of her neck and kissing her forehead.

“It'll be okay.” He lied, “take care of him.”

He returned to his room and pulled Cayde against him for the last time. He wasn't going to speak in finalities, he wasn't going to give him a sign that this was the end. He pushed him into the sheets and loved him one last time. Took his time with it, memorizing every last piece of him, inch by inch. This moment was going to be the last thing he remembered.

The Dare was set, Zavala thought the whole thing was rather silly because now he had to try to reign in a restless Cayde long enough to get him to do some actual work. Ikora set her jaw when she saw him, she knew and she respected him too much to stop him. He pushed a bit of Light to her, a little flicker of flame along the back of her hand. He gave her one last kind look as he and Cayde left for the Hangar. He had his arm draped openly around him as they walked. This was it, this was the last of it. His heart was beating hard in his chest and it hurt. But beyond that pain it also felt like relief. Even now, as he stood with Cayde before his ship, the darkness was lurking in him and knowing that it would all be over soon was enough to give him the strength to keep going. The void yearned to have him back. He ached deep in his bones and he couldn't remember the last time that ache and pain wasn't within him. He put his hands on either side of the Exo's face and pulled him in. The last kiss. The last words spoken between them. “I love you.” He said, softly, they'd never seen a reason to say it. Both of them had understood that it was there, both had seen it as something they didn't need.

Cayde laughed softly. “In your own words, you're just going to go sit in the sun until you feel like coming home. Don't act like this is the last time.”

He grinned at him, “fine, fine.” He joked, pretended to laugh. He got into his ship in a hurry and took off. Up in the air, soaring beyond the walls and out into the clouds, he looked at his Ghost. “Let's find Taniks.” He whispered. The Ketch was on the moon, or at least it was back on the moon. He had wasted some time before heading over here, he had to give Cayde some time to get settled. Let Zavala push him around a bit first. He stood in the dirt and looked at his Ghost through the cracked helmet. “You can still escape if you want.” He offered, “you can go now, get out of here and see if there's another Guardian out there for you.”

“ _I'm not._ ” He'd never heard her voice so firm before, never heard her so sure of herself. “ _I've always been with you, you are mine and I am yours. There's no one else out there._ ”

He inhaled, nodded at her, and they went in together.

* * *

“Ah, I see you recognize me.” He growled, Taniks growled back and activated an alarm. It blared, loud, in his ears. He just chuckled. “Nothing's coming.” He said. “I cleared this whole place out before I got here. It's just you and me.”

The Fallen got to shooting bullets immediately, so did he. His Ghost turned off that pesky alarm and he put his skills to the test. Void Light, bullets, explosions. Even with his exceptional use of the Light, he still knew he wasn't going to kill him here. The Fallen had replaced the fleshy shoulder he'd torn off of him with his bow with a mechanical one. He looked more machine than Eliksni. An explosion from his scorch cannon knocked him off his feet, took the wind out of his chest. His Ghost wasn't healing him, he had told her not to.

His helmet was cracking down the back of his head, his nose broke and leaked blood from another blast. He gasped for air and relished in the taste of it.

That's when Cayde decided to jump on the comms, he wasn't supposed to hear this. “Y'know, Andal, I might be about to lose this Dare. I'm not sure I can handle this job, I didn't realize how much you did. How do you do it? I think Zavala's trying to make it harder than it needs to be, though, I wasn't aware there was a wrong way to sign your name.”

“Are you using your left hand?” He asked breathlessly.

“I'm a robot, I can totally use both whenever I want.”

He laughed softly, it was good to hear his voice, even if he hadn't wanted Cayde to hear this. “Whenever you hold a pen in your left hand you forget how you're supposed to hold it and hold it like you've grabbed a sword.” Taniks' cannon got him in the knee, he was slowing down too much. He wasn't fast enough to keep dodging. The next blast floored him and had his body skidded over the worn floor with a grunt and a low groan torn from his lungs.

“Whoa, wait, what's going on out there?” There was a note of panic in his voice.

“Got myself into a tough spot.” He said weakly, Taniks was shouting, his leg was broken, the pain was heat in his nose.

“Get out of there.” Cayde demanded.

“I can't.” He whispered, it hurt to talk. “Doors are sealed. Killed the rest of them though, it's just him and me.”

“Andal, I mean it. Get out of there.” His voice was desperate, he ached.

He got to his knees, squeezing the trigger and firing as many rounds as he could. His hands trembled, Taniks was hurt from his bows and his bullets but he was worse off. If his Ghost was healing him, he was starting to think he could have killed him. Taniks wasn't that strong, Andal was better. Another blast, he rolled out of the way and coughed the dust from his lungs. “Cayde..” He breathed, trying to haul himself back up. “I think this is the end.” More bullets, more shots, a handful of void Light that was weak and petered out shortly after it hit.

“No. No, no, no. It isn't. It won't be. It can't be. Get the fuck back here _now_ or I'll kill you myself.” Andal laughed. “Don't laugh. I mean it. Get _out_ of there.”

It broke his heart to hear that tone in his voice. It was pain and desperation and pure panic. He was too far away to help and he knew that it would kill him to hear this. “I'm sorry, love,” he started quietly. “But I don't think I can worm my way out of it this time.”

“You can. You will, please, you have to. I can't be part of the Vanguard and I can't lose you.” The cannon shot hit him square in the chest, his back hit the wall behind him and his body crumpled against it like he was made of cloth rather than blood and bone. His vision was blinking in and out, his ribs were broken. “Andal!” Cayde shouted, his voice sounded so broken.

“Hush,” he whispered. “Yelling won't solve anything. You'll be fine. You'll be a great leader. My story is—“ he broke off, inhaling a rattling breath. “My story is just about over.”

“You know I loved you, right?” Cayde's voice was cracking, and not just in a static-y way, a real human crack. He didn't know his voice could do that.

“Of course I know.” He replied, smiling through all the pain and that twinge of relief. The whispers were calling his name. Taniks was nearing him, certain of his victory. His Ghost was at his side.

“I've loved before, not gonna lie. But you were the only one who loved me _back_. Loved me _first_. I'm just some stupid robot, not worth the metal I'm made of but you're the only one who could love me. You can't leave me.”

“Someone else will too, I'm sure. You're worth more than you can imagine.”

“Andal, please, get out of there.”

“I can't.” He grabbed his Ghost and held her to his chest, she hummed to him softly, content to die in the safety of his hands. Tears were slipping down his cheeks and if he was honest he couldn't tell if it was from relief or not. He was _so_ tired. Taniks stood over him. “You'll be okay, Cayde.” He said.

Taniks' foot landed on his chest and the pressure made his head spin. It was crushing him, splintering any bones that weren't already broken, Taniks chose to kill him slowly. The noises he made sounded like laughter. The piercing press of his Ghost pressing into him was what hurt the worst – he was killing her too and he wished he had told her firmly to stay away and save herself from his fate. He closed his eyes, remembered Cayde arching under him. He remembered the soft glow of his eyes, how it felt to have his bare hands run over the smooth metal of Cayde's chest, he remembered the sharpness of his mouth.

Andal Brask finally, _finally_ , gave in to the pull of the darkness. In the end, the last thing he felt was a rush of relief from the hellish world he had created inside his head.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of awesome works about the use of Light and I wanted to use it myself, but I didn't want to get too close to how anyone else wrote that. I'm reasonably confident that no one else has taken it this way. I've always had this idea that warlocks were in tune with it enough to essentially perform magic tricks with it, had that idea a couple years back. And with Ikora being the biggest badass, I had no doubt she'd be able to use it in pretty much every application. I love Ikora, seriously. 
> 
> We know next to nothing about Andal Brask, after hours of theorizing and nattering on to anyone who cared enough to listen, this is what happened. Originally this was supposed to just be a simple "my life for yours" story, but I worked in the pull of the void and it came naturally. 
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this even half as much as I've enjoyed writing this.
> 
> I did want to thank occasional_boy_reporter for starting me on this path. As I started writing the main work the two of us talked and discussed Andal a little bit. I hadn't thought of him much before then, but since I've been writing him in everywhere and figured it was time to give him his own voice.


End file.
